


in her place

by apostolosian (mercutioes)



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: F/F, Light Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, i haven't written fic in 10000 yrs but these girls deserve it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-10 16:12:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11130237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercutioes/pseuds/apostolosian
Summary: just friends helping friends out (or, hella and adaire get a bit fucky)





	in her place

**Author's Note:**

> i present the following evidence from ali's curious cat:
> 
> exhibit a:  "Hella/Adaire: I think stories where women can just be friends are just as important as ones where they kiss but IF THEY ARE KISSING........... it's good. Of course it's good!!!!!!!!!!!!!! They're so good"
> 
> exhibit b:  "is hella a bottom"  "I mean, she doesn't think so, but don't you think she needs to be put in her place?"

The dying firelight catches on Hella’s hair where she sits, nursing the same drink she’s had for the past hour, seemingly lost in her own thoughts.  The Topgallant is dim and almost empty, Lauranee ushering the last few remaining patrons to their rooms or to the door.  Adaire makes it halfway to the stairs when she spots Hella across the room, her strangely distant expression catching Adaire’s eye.

A small voice inside her head hisses at her to _leave well enough alone_ , but a louder, stronger voice needs to slake its curiosity about the fighter, still too much of a mystery for Adaire’s comfort.  Pushing down that small voice, Adaire picks her way through the barroom to the table where Hella sits, resting her head on a scarred brown hand, eyes focused on nothing in particular.

“Still brooding, huh?” she says, leaning her hip against the edge of the table near to Hella’s arm.  Hella startles for a moment and looks up at Adaire.

“What?”

“Well,” Adaire continues, looking at Hella out of the corner of her eye. “You’ve been staring at the table for the past two hours.  Something on your mind?”

Hella goes back to staring into her half-finished drink, a barely-perceptible shudder going through her.

“This place, it’s… unsettling.  I don’t know the rules, I don’t even really know what we’re doing here!”  Hella takes a sip of her drink, clearly out of her depth in this strange layer of reality they’ve found themselves in.

For a few moments, Adaire simply studies Hella’s face, taking in the sharp angles of her cheekbones and the strong line of her jaw, the deep red of her hair and rugged brown of her skin.  Adaire would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about Hella before – how could she not?  Hella is as beautiful as she is intimidating, and unfortunately, that’s just exactly Adaire’s type of lady.

“There are always things you can do to make the nights a little bit less unsettling, if you know where to look,” she says, putting a soft hand on Hella’s arm.  Hella looks up at her again, something sparking in her dark eyes as they make contact with Adaire’s own.  Adaire instinctively goes to pull her hand away, but Hella catches her wrist before she can move, keeping Adaire’s hand on her arm, eyes _burning._

Adaire stares back at Hella, considering.  She hadn’t been planning on taking anyone to bed with her tonight but it seems to her like Hella could use some company, a distraction, _something_.  And if it means Adaire gets to touch this beautiful, terrifying woman, then it’s really not any skin off her back.  So Adaire takes a steadying breath, reaches out with her free hand, and places two fingers under Hella’s chin, tilting her face up to meet Adaire’s in a gentle kiss.

Hella makes a soft, surprised noise against Adaire’s mouth, clearly not anticipating Adaire’s forwardness; even so, her chapped lips soon soften.  A pause, and then Adaire pulls away, not failing to notice how Hella chases her mouth for the briefest of moments.

Adaire stands, brushing some imaginary dust off her skirt, watching out of the corner of her eye as Hella’s slightly stunned expression melts away into a cocky grin.

“Well,” she says.  “I’m going to bed.  There’s an open invitation if you want to join me.”  With that, she moves toward the stairs, barely glancing back at Hella as she does so.

She’s made it halfway up the stairs when she hears the faint sound of a chair scraping on the floor as its occupant hastily stands up, and it’s barely a second later when she hears footsteps behind her on the stairs.  Adaire suppresses a smug smile as she reaches the landing and heads down the hallway to her small rented room, fishing the key out of one of her many pockets and opening the door.

Adaire removes her capelet and pulls the pins from her intricate braids, letting her hair fall in golden waves around her face.  She hears the door click shut and turns to see Hella, a borderline predatory smirk on her face.

“Consider your invitation accepted.”

Adaire laughs at the cheesy line and takes a step towards Hella, then two, all the while undoing the clasps of her own blouse until it falls from her shoulders onto the floorboards.  A game, a dance – one that Adaire plans to win, plans to lead.

Hella’s eyes follow the motion of her hands, hungrily taking in the soft rolls of Adaire’s stomach, the swell of her breasts, the smooth skin of her shoulders.  Adaire feels a rush of satisfaction at the faint blush on Hella’s cheeks despite the bravado in her gaze.

Raising an eyebrow, Adaire finally moves close enough that she has to tilt her head up to look Hella in the eyes, her breasts and stomach just barely grazing Hella’s fully-clothed front.  The tense moment hangs in the air between them and then snaps, Hella surging down to meet Adaire’s lips with her own, grasping at Adaire’s arm and running thick fingers through her newly-freed hair.  Adaire gives as good as she gets, gripping Hella’s hip hard enough to bruise and molding her other hand to Hella’s jaw, guiding her movements as they both deepen the kiss.

Pulling away with a sharp nip to Hella’s full lower lip, Adaire backs away and perches on the edge of the bed, a sly smile quirking at the edge of her lips.  Hella’s answering grin is close to feral as she scrambles to kneel on the floor between Adaire’s spread legs, pulling at the clasps of Adaire’s skirt and yanking it off.  Adaire sighs and lets her legs fall open further, enjoying Hella’s strong hands on her thighs.

Hella kisses at Adaire’s knee, slowly making her way up and pulling a quiet, contented noise out of her.  Hella nips sharply at the soft skin at the apex of Adaire’s thighs and startles a high, thready moan from Adaire’s parted lips.  The fighter smirks widely, clearly pleased with herself as she soothes the bite with lips and tongue.

 _Well that just won’t do_ , thinks Adaire, and reaches a hand down to thread through Hella’s hair and pull sharply, snapping Hella’s head back so their eyes meet.  Hella looks startled but the blush on her cheeks deepens and her lips part, so Adaire must have hit on _something_.

Adaire schools her face into as stern an expression as she can muster with a gorgeous, pliant, six-foot-tall warrior between her legs looking confused and aroused in equal measure.

“I didn’t bring you up here to tease me,” says Adaire, her as tone cold and authoritative as she can manage in this position.  “And I’m still considering whether or not to let you put your tongue on me.”

Hella tries to move forward but Adaire’s hand tightens in her hair, making Hella whine in the back of her throat.  Adaire leans forward until her mouth is almost grazing Hella’s and whispers,

“Ask _nicely_.”

“I don’t know wha- _ah!”_ Adaire yanks again on her hair, forcing her head back and baring Hella’s throat enough so that Adaire can see her swallow.  It’s too tempting for Adaire to resist, so she indulges herself and nips sharply at the place where Hella’s jaw meets her neck.

Seemingly without conscious thought, Hella gasps out a breathless, “ _please”_.  Against her skin, Adaire grins.  She _always_ wins these games.

“Good,” she soothes, leaning back again and spreading her legs further.  She guides Hella’s head slowly towards her until her face is close enough to her cunt to feel Hella’s stuttering breath on her growing wetness.

Once she’s close enough, Hella laves her tongue in broad strokes across Adaire, swirling around her clit hard and relentless, making Adaire gasp and clench her fingers tighter in Hella’s thick hair.  Hella groans at that, her lips and tongue moving faster and more desperate, the hum of her moan buzzing across Adaire’s clit.

“Eager, aren’t we?” Adaire manages between breathy gasps.  She can see Hella’s dark cheeks redden further at her words, and takes that as encouragement to continue talking.  “You’ve wanted this for days, haven’t you?  Thought about it- _ah!_ Thought about it at night in camp, touching yourself with everyone else around, imagining- gods, _there!”_

Adaire’s hoists one leg up onto Hella’s broad shoulder to give her better access, not bothering to still her hips and fucking onto Hella’s clever tongue.  She’s _close_ , she can feel it building up inside her, her moans growing higher as Hella wraps her lips around her clit and _sucks_.  Hella’s hands are shaking where they grip Adaire’s thighs, tightening whenever Adaire makes a noise she likes.  Hella’s tongue is unflagging, ruthlessly working Adaire’s clit until she wants to scream.

And all too soon, Adaire releases a long, high moan and tightens her fists in Hella’s hair, thighs clenching around Hella’s head as she rides her face through her orgasm.

A few long, breathless moments and Adaire is coming down, releasing Hella’s hair and breathing heavily as she locks eyes with Hella.  She looks absolutely _wrecked_ , her hair a debauched mess and her lips and chin covered in Adaire’s slick.  It’s a good look on her, all things considered.

“ _Good_ ,” breathes Adaire, stroking Hella’s cheek and leaning down to kiss her messily, tasting herself on Hella’s pliant lips.  Adaire pulls back, licking her lips slowly and grinning.  Hella’s breath hitches audibly.

“Up on the bed,” Adaire whispers, and Hella scrambles to do what she says, legs shaky from kneeling so long.  With one hand on Hella’s chest, Adaire pushes her onto her back, straddling her angular hips.  She leans down to kiss Hella again, hungry for the addictive taste of her mouth.  She tastes sweat and the last remnants of herself on Hella’s tongue, and a quiet desperation in the way Hella lets her in without any resistance.  Adaire swipes her tongue over the soft cupid’s bow shape of Hella’s upper lip and begins to kiss down Hella’s neck, leaving soft kisses in the hollow of her throat, sliding her lips down the taut tendons to her collarbone.

Hella’s hand comes up to rest on her shoulder, the other snaking into her hair.  Adaire allows it for a moment, working on biting a particularly satisfying bruise at the point where Hella’s neck meets her shoulder.  Hella’s fingers clench at that, a high whine escaping her parted lips.  Adaire moves back to look at her work, a blossoming red-purple mark on dark skin.  Hella’s eyes look wild, pleading for something that she doesn’t seem to know how to ask for.  Luckily, Adaire thinks she knows exactly what she wants.

Adaire slowly wraps her hands around Hella’s wrists and presses them firmly into the mattress above her head.  She raises an eyebrow at Hella, a silent, _Okay?_   Hella nods, her eyes wide and throat working as Adaire’s lips quirk into a grin.

“Don’t move them until I say you can,” orders Adaire.  “I want to take my time with you.”

With one delicate finger, Adaire presses on the bruise she just made – not too hard, but certainly hard enough to sting.  Hella’s breath hitches in her throat, a ragged sound.

With lips and tongue, Adaire winds her down Hella’s body, drawing desperate noises from the fighter above her.  She kisses down Hella’s stomach, over the myriad of scars there, evidence of the years of wear and work Hella has put herself through.  She pays special attention to the scars, tracing them with her mouth, worshipping the marks that history has left on the Ordennan.

Hella writhes above her, gasping and moaning, but she never moves her hands.  They clench tightly in the sheets, a desperate attempt to ground herself.

Finally, Adaire arrives at the apex of Hella’s thighs.  She can _smell_ her, the musky scent of Hella’s arousal.  Adaire runs one finger up Hella’s outer lips, and she’s so _wet_ , Adaire can hardly believe it.  Hella whines at the touch, hips bucking up unconsciously.

“Ah ah _ah_ ,” scolds Adaire.  “None of that.  I said stay _still.”_  With that, Adaire presses firmly down on Hella’s hips, hard enough to bruise come morning.  Hella gasps, bunching the sheets in her hands.  Adaire looks up at her, plastering a sweet, placid smile on her face.

“What is it you want, Hella?”

“I, ah… I don’t know, I don’t know, just- _mm!”_

Adaire’s thumb rubs slow, teasing circles just below Hella’s clit, just below where Hella so desperately needs her.  Adaire purses her lips, feigning contemplation.

“I’m going to need you to use your words, Hella, or I’ll never know what it is you want.”  She takes her thumb away, and Hella’s eyes widen.

 _“Please!”_ she cries, voice cracking.  “Please just touch me, put your fingers in me, anything…”

And how can Adaire argue with a plea that pretty?  She complies, pushing one finger into Hella and biting a new mark into her hipbone all at once.  The sound Hella makes is practically feral, and for a moment Adaire is worried that the inn’s other tenants will hear her.

Adaire works her finger in Hella, adding another and crooking them up at just the right angle to make Hella cry out.  Her thumb works roughly at Hella’s clit, all softness gone from her movements.  From the noises that Hella is making, that seems to be exactly how she likes it.

Adaire holds Hella’s hips down with her free hand, gazing up at her face, shining with sweat, color high on her sharp cheekbones.  Her dark eyes are _wild_.

“ _Look at you_ ,” Adaire whispers, working Hella faster, feeling her clench around her fingers.  “Are you going to come?”

“Yeah, _yeah_ ,” Hella manages between gasps.  “Please, just…”

“Is this what you wanted?” asks Adaire, leaning down to tongue at Hella’s clit, eliciting a sharp cry.  “Is this what you were hoping for?  Did you want me to fuck you like this, all filthy and desperate for me?”

Adaire almost can’t believe the filth spilling out of her own mouth, but something about having Hella in this state is giving her a confidence she didn’t know she had.  Hella’s answering whine seems to indicate that it’s working for her though, so Adaire keeps going.

“It’s hard to believe someone like you could be so _obedient,”_ breathes Adaire, working her thumb faster and faster on Hella’s clit.  She’s so wet, she’s practically _dripping_ and her moans are climbing.

“So good, just for me.”

And that tips Hella over the edge, clenching like a vice around Adaire’s fingers and back arching off the mattress like a bow pulled taut.  Adaire works her through it, second after agonizing second until Hella slumps back to the bed, breathing heavily.  Adaire slowly pulls her fingers out of Hella and wipes them on the sheets beside her. _Someone else’s problem_ , she thinks, moving up the bed to kiss Hella deeply.

She pulls back far enough to see Hella’s soft smile, an expression Adaire hasn’t really seen before.

When she pulls back further, Adaire snorts inelegantly.

“You can move your hands now, you know.”

Hella’s cheeks go even redder, and she wordlessly wraps her arms around Adaire.  They lay there in comfortable silence for a minute or two before Hella breaks it with a quiet, “Thanks.”

“Hey, anytime,” replies Adaire.  “Always happy to help out a friend in need.”  She leans up to plant a kiss on Hella’s cheek, turning in her arms to rest her head on Hella’s chest.  After a while, she can feel Hella’s breathing even out as she drifts off.  Adaire traces the scars on her stomach with a reverent finger, laughing incredulously to herself at her own luck, before joining Hella in sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't written a full fic in literally 4 or 5 years so pls be gentle


End file.
